a bird caught in a dreamcatcher

So I tried to break myself out of the creative prison of my last failed painting, and ended up with something weird and ugly. In letting out my feelings onto canvas, I suppose that was a success. But it’s nothing pleasant that I would hang or ask anyone to buy. I paper mached the canvas in some misguided effort to create texture, and then started to paint a bird caught in a dreamcatcher before the painting suddenly decided it wanted to be an abstract. I tried to follow the instinct and ended up wrist deep in this:

IMG_4301

It actually wouldn’t be so weird if not for the paper mache…?

No. It’d still be weird.

Afterward I made Rolo Chocolate Chip Blondies — the obvious choice for an evening of pouting. (After an impromptu run to the store in our pajamas — thank you, baby! <3)

Gambling

It’s done, the pastel dust has settled…and I lost. I learned a lot. Like heavy black lines are NOT always a good idea. A light color will never cover a dark color. Bigger is not better.

Trust your instincts.

The truth is this painting died moments after I sketched it out and outlined it in sharpie. That’s when the itch to draw had been scratched and I remember thinking that the design was too weak to go on. But I spent too much money on the canvases and had no other inspiration calling, and so I plowed on, unhappily, until tonight when at sometime before 8pm I called it.

I’m frustrated still. I hit when I should have stayed and I busted, but can you blame me if I was only at a 16 with this painting?

Does that make sense to anyone else but me?

I’m not posting a picture because in a rage I shoved the pieces out of sight and I’m not ready to look at them again.

I live!

I keep meaning to blog, but I then I just…don’t. I suppose that’s because I have no new art to report, although I have been working on a piece. It’s been pretty draining. See, I decided that I’m going to start selling my art. So I got fancy, expensive canvases for this half-baked trio design aaaaaand… it’s become the bane of my existence. It’s such a large surface area that it’s taking FOREVER, and the depth of the canvas means I have to paint the sides too! (Which is not easy on top of trash bags on the floor with a new tattoo on my ankle that I’m still babying.) I’m going to have to charge $500 for this thing for my pain and suffering alone.

Here’s the WIP:

IMG_4291

So what’s going on with me? I’m still convinced that my medication affects my writing. I don’t feel as creative in that capacity. Not even for poems. I guess it’s a small price to pay for sanity…but it’s still kind of sad to think about it.

So this is me, tuning out…

Oldies but Goodies

I found my old profile(s) on fictionpress.com, and wow…there are some gems, but mostly it’s all just good old fashioned teenage angst posted there. But I kind of like it. It tells a story. So I’m going to share it all here — the good, bad and ugly. Whenever I’m feeling guilty for not posting anything in a while, or that writer’s block will be the end of me, I’ll just post some oldies but goodies.

Here’s a favorite…

Melancholy

She was always thinking of that limit in the sky
Wondering why the one who set it only dared to go that high
She wondered if a human soul can outgrow its mortal shape
As she outgrew the threadbare life all others hoped to make
How relentless were these hungry thoughts chewing on her mind
Evolving into ardent dreams that consumed her every night
She dreamt the clouds were packaging and the world was a box
And heaven was a blanket that lay across the top
She dreamt she had the strength to break out of her confines
But as she opened up the box the blanket fell aside
And there was another limit at the edge of heaven lay
Beyond that there was nothing but hills of empty space
The starred pattern on the blanket said she could finally rest
That the warmth and bliss of heaven would end her daunting quest
Instead of lying down to sleep the dream ended and she woke
She raised her head up high and to God in heaven spoke
“The happiness of heaven may be more than I have known
But how can you offer paradise that’s less than what I own?”
Dejectedly she decided that her dreaming days were through
Not knowing that God in heaven was once a dreamer too

This is really about me wanting to be a Sailor Senshi or another such superhero…which at the time was the only way I thought my life would have meaning. I thought there had to be a bigger picture and that I should be an essential piece. I was also struggling with whether or not there is a God, or heaven and hell. I submitted this poem for competition in college and got an honorable mention, I think. It’s cute and I like it, even if it is a little “melancholy.”

And for fun, here’s a really corny, bad poem that I remember being better than it is.

Written

There’s a sentence on her countenance that remains incomplete
While dressed in that pretty paperback hiding a novel underneath
With a scant summary printed in the perfume on her wrists
The grammar is in her smile, the words glitter on her lips
Spelled by hands in conversation, then published in her eyes
In a lovely cursive hand still wet with ink of light
At night I duly worship the author of her skin
And ugly bookmark reaching for every secret there within
And the hours I’ve spent plagiarizing to honor her in rhyme
Compared with such perfect sources seems hardly worth the time

I really wanted someone to write a romantic poem for me, so I just up and did it myself. Think I could have beat the horse any deader with the metaphors? Jeez…

One more — an angry open letter.

Garbage

There are some things that were meant to be
And I guess this isn’t it
How could it take me all these years
To get sick of all  your shit?
Too bad your IQ could not keep up
With all your fucking lies
So here’s the end
Fuck you then
I’m done wasting all my time
I can’t help you one bit if you don’t want to help yourself
And why should I try for you if you won’t try for me?
Having friends should never have been hazardous to my health
And this, the poem I wrote for you, is the one you’ll never read
Too much of my life has been thrown away for you
I hope you know the rest of the world is sick of your garbage too
I pray someday you’ll finally catch a fucking clue
But who knows? You’re pretty thick
It still hasn’t clicked that I’m fucking pissed at you

HAHAHA! I love this. It’s so basic and fun. I don’t even remember who it was about. I guess that goes to show you that the small things really are just small things…

That’s all for now, folks!

 

 

I still want to live on a vineyard with a bunch of goats…

fullsizeoutput_540.jpeg

Okay, so I fixed the painting…! But seriously. Then we could make goat cheese to have with dinner every night. (And goats are so cute! I love those videos on Facebook.) And I assume that we’d make a ton of money and have a never ending supply of wine. People would visit and buy our wine then buy my paintings because they’re drunk and on vacation.

WIPs

img_4189

I repainted one of my clay pieces. I’m not sure if I like it… I sort of miss the pink color scheme, although it was so sloppy I couldn’t leave it that way. My art always has an element of slop to it, but it’s all about balance (something I struggle with). I also painted something but I basically hate it so here’s a really shitty picture taken from the couch while I pouted.

img_4188

I actually had more greens and yellows in this painting, but it looked a little…cartoony?? I don’t know. But now the lady looks too monochromatic and the background is so BORING I could die.

Thoughts? (Ooh, I’m getting ballsy asking for feedback!!! O_O)

things get stranger

My art has taken a weird turn. And writing anything but smut with my husband is a challenge. I don’t know if I am just in a funk, or if this is your art on drugs* kids… But I keep having visions of clay pieces in frames with this’s and thats. But when it comes time to actually paint said pieces I fat finger it and end up with…slop. So that’s a problem.

img_4092.jpg

*The kind that are legally prescribed to me by my doctor for bipolar. Settle down.

I COOKED!

Okay, so I do this weird thing. I get an idea of something I want to have for dinner — something really specific. Like…broccoli chicken casserole…but with yogurt cheese sauce. Because we have this fucking tub of yogurt in the fridge from a recipe that called for like a tablespoon of it. And then I hit Google hard until I find something that fits my exact needs — no carbs, quick and easy, can use cheap rotisserie chicken.

But not this time, because this time Google had absolutely nothing for me. But I was determined to do exactly this thing. Mostly because of the yogurt. We’re trying to use more of the insane amount of groceries we buy.

So I made something! On my own! Just winging it! I’m very proud.

I preheated the oven to 350, got out a skillet and a sauce pan. In the sauce pan I heated a cup of yogurt, and in the skillet a little bit of olive oil. Mushrooms went into the skillet, followed by half a chopped yellow onion. Meanwhile I mixed a cup of cheese into the yogurt to melt, and microwaved one of those ready to steam bags of broccoli. Husband kindly chopped up the white meat of a rotisserie chicken while I wondered whether or not this was going to turn out. Because my yogurt sauce got grainy but then again not in a bad way. I probably heated it too much but I wanted the cheese to melt.

Anyway, then I mixed it all together in a bowl — the cheese sauce, chicken, broccoli, mushrooms and onions. Oh and I was salting and peppering everything like a boss — paprika was used at one point. I know that this really needs a noodle or rice or something…but we’re not eating carbs. Very sad. So into the glass baking dish it went, topped with more cheese. Baked for 20 minutes and then promptly eaten.

img_4069

YUM.